Tenacious Storms
by l My Dark Angel l
Summary: Storms did not frighten her—not one bit, she swore. Not even when she found herself awake with her mother by her side when night was welcomed with thunder and lightning; not even that rare mother-daughter moment that was like a diamond in their family, would she admit this. A one-shot with no happy endings.


_**Tenacious Storms **_

**~One-Shot~**

Ugly grey masonry; that was all that surrounded her, as she lay there in her own defeat and humility.

The first week after being in the asylum, Azula was ominously silent. Not because she succumbed to her punishment and accepted it—no, not at all. She was contemplating. Planning. Planning what? She wasn't quite sure, the details weedy. Though the main point was what gave her faith, made her keep plotting. All that mattered was her escape. And vengeance. Plenty of that would be involved when she could find a way to breathe the outside air without being in rusty cuffs. She had a list ready, too…

But as thunder cackled, and the sound of water dripping into the walls smacked into the wall, she imagined a vicious storm coming towards her new home—oh, hell, it would never be home. It was not at all comfortable or satisfying. She refused to accept this place, this disgusting, retched place.

No one even visited her yet. It was not like she wanted her precious family or former friends to come, pitying her position and begging her to change in order to be released. Like that was worth it. Should she end up in the outside once more, she wanted to be herself, not some softer version of herself that surrendered to her friends' petty begs of redemption. It would all be useless, anyway, their attempts. She would not change for those people and what they've done against what she did for her father and her nation.

Nonetheless, she remained in this place alone, and she soon found herself talking to herself by the end of the week. Often, it was just simple commentary of the world and what she thought of it; other days it was about her plans to escape. Not too loud, her paranoia telling her that guards would overhear her and ask for more tests on her. Plus, why in the world would she want to talk about her planning to escape while in the very place she was trying to escape?

A small ray of light appeared, and Azula's eyes dashed to the source. It was a guard opening the small door that only a flying lemur could sneak into. A burly hand slid a tray across the floor and shut it without a single word. Everyone had forgotten to talk with her after a few days; with no response coming from her, it was always in vain and eventually, got boring as hell.

Cuffed to the walls, she had to lean in to get the water. Luckily, these guards knew how to slide in food and drinks without spilling them. Maybe once she became Fire Lord, she would spare their stupid lives.

But upon glancing more into the water after taking a few gulps, she wondered just how deep into insanity she had fallen into when she saw that it wasn't just water wafting in the dull, almost grey water.

A reflection arrived that wasn't supposed to be there. It shocked her so much, she dropped the bowl. It only shook as it made contact with the gravely floor, tossing a few drops onto the floor. And even then, the unmoving figure remained, staring right into her soul with a soft gaze that shouldn't scare the crap out of her.

But it did. Who wouldn't be surprised to see her mother in a bowl of water?

It had happened before, but this mirage had not done anything, and she doubted it _would_. It remained as it was, staring and blankly smiling. Did not even breath. Perhaps that was what surprised her the most. She stared at it with a raised eyebrow. Why was she seeing this image again?

Thunder rolled into the room; with this and the image of her mother boring its dead eyes into her obviously living ones, without a single warning, she found herself thinking a bit into the past. She swore not to do this, wanting to repress past thoughts, because they only ended on a sour note. But she was in no control as she thought about that one night where she revealed a hint of weakness…right in front of her mother…

* * *

Her eyes snapped open at once upon the sound of booming thunder going on outside. She glanced over through narrowed brows.

Lightning struck the navy skies and rain rolled down the large windows that gave a clear view of the storms that occupied the Fire Nation Capitol. The noises were too loud for her to ignore, and as she dropped her head back onto the soft pillow of her enormous bed, she closed her eyes, only to find that the sound made it near impossible to fall back to sleep. For her, it was a huge distraction that could not be ignored.

She rolled around her bed, tossing her silk red covers all over, from over her head to just tossing them aside. She covered her face with the pillow. The lack of finding the ability to sleep was maddening, and she grumbled throughout her attempts. But her inside feelings were…different. However, she refused to address them or comprehend them.

Once finding her attempts to drift back to sleep to be useless, she wanted to get up and go…where? Like she could go to her parents' room; her father would send her back to where she stared, only to have her mother arrive later in her room to ask what was the matter.

Azula decided to move a few steps ahead, quick to the punch. "_Mother_!" she yelled out, loudly enough to probably wake her brother, too. A bonus. She laughed at it, so easily amused by her ideas.

She waited, and almost doubted that her voice reached across the hallway that would lead to her parents' bedroom. She was certain that in the absolute darkness and silence that her volume would shake anyone in the building to awaken unless they were on the other side of the palace.

She fell back onto her bed when she heard a new sound. Footsteps. Bare and quick to arrive to its destination. And it was coming closer…closer.

The door opened with not a single knock. This made her sure that it was her mother; guards would be careful and knock at her door first. Rather, a woman in a small red robe with golden streaks came in with a worried face. Even when seeing Azula's breezy gaze, she seemed to have a look of concern.

"What's wrong, Azula? Are you hurt?" Ursa asked urgently, rushing to her side and sitting down beside her on the bed, immediately taking hold of Azula's hands.

Azula released her hands from her mother. She didn't like the light feeling she got when her mother was trying to bond with her, or at least trying to help her. "The thunder and lightning are keeping me up. They're bugging me. And I can't fall asleep," she explained with pursed lips.

Ursa's motherly instincts kicked in almost instantly. She brought Azula closer to her, right against her breast. She rubbed her child's shoulder and smiled down upon her with an innocent aura. "Are you scared, sweetie?" she asked softly, half playing around, but also wanting the truth.

Azula glared up at her, crossing her arms in defiance. "I am not!" She shoved her mother's arms away yet remained cushioned against her chest. "The storm is just being annoying, and it's making it hard to go back to sleep."

Ursa smiled. Just as that happened, like her smile conjured it up, lightning burst a powerful light behind them, and thunder roared deafeningly enough to toss Azula onto her mother's lap. She struggled and found herself looking into her mother's smile, which remained even during her reaction. Azula didn't understand what was so funny.

Seeing her daughter's irritation, Ursa pulled her back up, sitting her up against her. "Not from what I just saw. …Azula, what's wrong with being scared?" She did not ask it chidingly or in any demand; if anything, she sounded concerned, like this was a problem. But Azula thought it was the very opposite—a good thing. How she and her mother were so different often disgusted her. Her mother and she would never see eye-to-eye. Still, Azula decided to explain it to her anyway.

"Being scared means being weak. And I can't be weak if I want to become a prodigy. Daddy said so," she told her mother.

For a second, her mother's eyes flashed when she mentioned her father. However, the darkness surrounding her face washed away as quickly as it arrived, replaced with her common warm expression. "It's alright to be scared, Azula. There's nothing wrong with it. And it definitely doesn't mean being weak."

"Yes there is! If I'm weak, that means I can't be the best." Without much thinking, she cupped her hands before her and produced blue flames—very tiny, but the fact they were blue shadowed that fact. They were a royal blue, though some shades of orange appeared at the edges. She hadn't gotten it all down entirely, but it was _blue fire_. Just a few days ago did she learn this technique, and it was hard to even create this minute ember. Even her father never had done that. "Daddy has been telling me if I want to be like him, I have to do everything right and be tough all the time, no matter what. To never show fear or…vulnabi—vulnrab—" She scrunched her eyes, trying to pronounce how her father said that big word.

"Vulnerability," Ursa corrected her, much to Azula's relief. That was a hard word for a nine year old. Ursa sighed as Azula let the flames disappear with a huff. "There's a difference between being scared and being weak. Sometimes, even your father gets scared," she put in.

"When?" Azula demanded, not at all believing it.

"Well," Ursa droned, and Azula forebodingly guessed it was because he hardly got scared, and it would take time to come up with a time. That was why she praised him so much; never admitting being afraid, because it was not a good thing one bit, "when Iroh was having trouble in Ba Sing Se. He was worried about his brother very much. He knew Iroh was going through a lot and wasn't sure what would happen, since he was here."

Azula almost laughed; why would Ozai be worried about something like that? Was she for real? Instead, she pouted. "No, he was worried that uncle Iroh wouldn't finish the job, and he didn't, and we don't have Ba Sing Se because of him. Iroh let his emotions get to him rather than take control of what was going on. Dad would have been great at that invasion—he would have kept going," Azula said with a sinister sneer, thinking back to the letter Ursa informed them off, how Iroh escaped the Impenetrable City because his son, their cousin, Lu Ten died, and he couldn't continue without him. To Azula, that was a weak move.

Ursa seemed to have trouble responding to that. "…Do you really want to be like your father? What did you mean by that?" she asked, not sounding worried—if anything, it was curiosity, but not at all gleeful.

"Well, I wanted to be Fire Lord, but since Zuko's the oldest, that's not going to happen," Azula spat angrily. "But I at least want to be the greatest firebender ever. Much better thank Zuko—but how bad he did in front of grandpa makes me feel better about that," she added with a sly grin.

"Your brother was just nervous and felt a lot of pressure. He has a lot more pressure being the oldest, and the eventual Fire Lord in the future. It was just that day he wasn't ready to prove that. But I know he'll be ready…and he'll need you to support him, no matter what," Ursa informed her, her face bright as if this would help make Azula feel better.

Azula's face grew dark, but Ursa didn't seem to notice. _She always has some way to bring my brother into this…and defend him every time, _Azula thought before glancing back up at Ozai's wife. "Whatever," she snarled, turning away and drifting away from the conversation. She sighed and pulled her covers over her shoulders. Ursa was quiet for a few moments.

Another bolt of lightning illuminated the room, throwing Azula off guard. She flinched but otherwise did not react. Still, it was an action that didn't go unnoticed. Blushing an angry red, she slowly turned to see her mother nodding solemnly.

"You want to know what I think?" Ursa asked, pulling her daughter back against her chest.

"No," Azula responded a bit harshly, but nothing Ursa had never faced. She pushed her mother away and watched Ursa's smile fade, but Ursa answered anyway.

"The way you are speaking, it is like you are afraid to be afraid," her mother declared, but with no malice in her voice. That kind of talk from her surprised her as it was. Azula's gaze rose up and found her mother's golden eyes—the one she had given the child. Something was in her eyes, and not eye crust from the sudden burst of being awoken. A sort of shine, maybe? What was she getting at?

Azula, however, did not think about it too much, the words processed quickly into her brain. She glowered with as much hate as she could; whether at her mother or her statement, she wasn't quite sure. Maybe both, it didn't matter. "I am not! I'm not afraid of anything. And how can I be afraid of fear? You're not making any sense, mother!"

"A little storm can't get in your way, then, can it?" Ursa challenged, grabbing her shoulders and pressing her cheek against hers. It was common playfulness, but Azula would have none of it. She rolled her eyes, though gave up in pushing her away. It was pointless at this point. Besides, she had confidence she needed to recreate after those moments of weakness when the storms arrived.

"Of course a stupid storm isn't going to make me feel pathetic! It's just a bunch of noises," Azula answered, her brows creased. Her words were too sincere and confident, it was too true to believe otherwise.

"That's wonderful." Ursa's smile was full, and for a moment, both remained as they were. But it was the best moment they would ever have, sitting there without Azula being snarky or Ursa chiding her for being so. Ursa almost tried to hug her, but stopped when Azula's golden eyes, etched with an unexplainable darkness that drew an uncomfortable feel into Ursa's heart, met hers, and that was when she fell back.

She sighed and got up. "I'm going to check in on your brother," Ursa announced before pecking her daughter softly on the forehead. "You're going to be fine. Nothing can get you while I'm here." Azula remained stoic but inside felt anger boil. Once the doors shut quietly, Azula turned in her covers to her side and mumbled angrily.

_It's _always _about Zuzu, isn't it? Even when she can stand me for the shortest moment, it's ruined by him. _

* * *

Back in those days, the storms in her heart were slowing growing, relentless in its madness. Without anyone to hold her up and pull her to her feet long enough to be safe forever, nothing could stop her from becoming the monster that was lying in the cell, her soul ruined by her flaws smashing at her in the moments she turned her back for just a second. She remained staring into the reflection in the water, losing all interest to drink any of it.

The image of her mother flashed before her eyes once more, where hers ought to be.

The sound of tenacious storms caused her to jump, she was so deep in her own thoughts, and the water splattered across the floor when her foot made contact with it. The image of her mother disappeared with a solemn look. She was no longer there, unable to comfort her in the darkest and most frightening corners. She was indeed alone.

Tears fell down her face into the stain, which only bore her once beautiful face. What kind of tears; anger or sadness? She lost faith in emotions to care anymore—she let them be and could not hold them back. It hurt too much to force them away. She bowed her head, shielding it from any oncoming guards who would check to make sure she was still breathing—or maybe hoping she wasn't.

They all despised her. Everyone. Even if her father came to find her, he would spit at her knees and be disgusted by how broken she was upon her fall. He wouldn't care. He never did. Only cared about her strength and confidence, how she wanted to please him and help him throughout his attempts to overrule the entire world. As a daughter, she had Ursa, but she…drove her away. Drove away the person who could have tried to have faith in her…

She shivered as the burning liquid cascaded some more, staining her cheeks, and the lightning and thunder blended into the skies behind her, and she knew that tonight, she would not sleep. She would not plan escape, not even think about it. Not when she was alone in this dark night of ugly, uncomfortable storms that ruined the night.

**I have been doing these 'Azula and her mother" type of fanfictions—I have no clue why, but I do enjoy them. Azula is a very complex character—probably the most in the show. So there's a lot to do with her. Plus, while her relationship with her mother pretty much sucked, that doesn't mean they never had some short moments of some tiny connection. And while fanfictions involving storms have been seen a lot, I haven't done it, so shut up and and tell me what you think, because I haven't put anything on here in a while and wanted to fill that ugly gap (so I don't know how well this will do, but I couldn't hide it forever now, could I?). XD **


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